


That Couch Has Seen A Lot

by kristantinople



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristantinople/pseuds/kristantinople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You wanna make out on the couch? ‘Cause we have enough time for a quicky,” Ian asked between kisses.</p><p>“I know. Don’t wanna get up though,” he pressed his clothed erection into Ian’s stomach, “Fuck me right here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Couch Has Seen A Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm incapable of writing anything unless it contains porn, hehehe.
> 
> I’m a sucker for realistic-ish depictions of sex in fic so hopefully I did a decent job? My headcanon for Mickey and Ian in s5 is that they become way more intimate with each other, at least in private, now that Mickey is out and they have more or less admitted their feelings for one another.
> 
> There’s no such thing as too much happy sex though, right? With gratuitous amounts of pet names and loud and enthusiastic bottom Mickey (◡‿◡✿).
> 
> Set during the summer after s4.

The moment Mickey walked in the door he felt so much better. It was hot as hell outside and he’d had a long day dealing with customers trying to skimp on payment, and bitchy Russian hookers and his bitchy Russian wife who kept trying to pass the baby off to him, as if he wasn't also working today. The girls were always chattering with each other, instead of talking to the customers, in a language he couldn’t understand. But he knew they sometimes talked about him, and he felt like an ass whenever he walked by and heard a group of them giggle and look in his direction, with their grating catty schoolgirl laughter.

He walked into the Gallagher kitchen, which he surmised was also his kitchen too, since he’s been living there for five consecutive months now. Ian was sitting at the dining table frowning into his history book; He'd decided to go back to school and finish once he had leveled out and regained his common sense, and after having learned just how hard it was to get a job and make it on your own with no degree. Over the summer he was taking a history class up at the high school and an engineering class at Malcolm X. Lip’s push to take extra classes to bulk up his West Point application had payed off in the end after all. If he completed his summer work and switched out some electives for the last of his core classes during the school year, he could graduate with his class in May. But only if he got his work done, which was proving to be harder than he’d anticipated.

This history class was killing him.

“I can hear your brain sizzling from all the way outside,” was Mickey’s greeting as he walked up to his boyfriend at the table. Ian looked up and beamed when he saw who it was, and smiled into the kiss Mickey leaned down to give him. His smile turned into a pout when he looked back at his textbook.

“Why do I even have to learn about Champlain? This is an American history class,” Ian griped. “The guy fucking explored Canada for Christ’s sake.”

“Isn’t the whole thing technically America?” Mickey asked, but Ian only grunted in response.

"Hey, why don’t ya take a break for a bit? We’ll fry your brain with a couple episodes a’ South Park instead.”

Ian nodded his head, eager to have any reason to stop studying for a little bit. Mickey moved around the kitchen while Ian put away his stuff. He pulled out the “Squirrel Fund” coffee can from under the sink in the back behind all the cleaning supplies (the family’s new hiding spot) and dropped a few bills into the container before snapping the lid back on and replacing it under the sink. Then he turned around to rummage through the fridge.

“You want a beer?” Mickey asked as Ian walked by into the living room.

“Is that even a question?” _Such a fucking diva._

He grabbed two beers then shouldered the fridge closed and walked into the room right behind Ian. They both dropped onto the couch and shuffled around to get comfortable; Mickey ended up leaning back against an arm of the couch while Ian laid down between his legs with his back pressed to Mickey’s chest. Ian could feel Mickey move every time he brought his beer up to his lips, felt his chest rumble every time he laughed at the TV. For some reason it was incredibly comforting.

A couple minutes later Ian’s cellphone buzzed in the pocket of his cargo shorts, ruining the ambiance when he had to move to put his beer down and fish his phone out.

“It’s Fiona. She’s gonna be late ‘cause she just got off work, asked us to make dinner.”

“D’ we have to start now?” Mickey asked. He had really been looking forward to some more down time with his boyfriend before the house filled up with the other Gallaghers for the night.

“Naw. She just left and she's gotta stop by Shelia’s to get Liam, so we got about…” he checks the clock on his phone, “little over an hour.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey asked with a smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively as he lifted the bottle to his lips again. Ian grinned and returned his phone to his pocket and shut the TV off with the remote, then leaned over and started planting wet kisses on the side of Mickey’s neck before licking into the shell of his ear.

“Hey now, don’t start something we can’t finish,” Mickey admonished, but he made no move to stop him.

“Oh, I intend to finish this. C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”

“Nah.”

Ian pulled back, “No?”

Mickey almost laughed at the dejected look on Ian’s face. He took one final swig to drain the last of his beer before moving to set the empty bottle down on the coffee table. When he turned back around he grabbed Ian’s face with both hands and pressed him firmly against the back of the couch as he kissed him, and Ian let out a surprised squeak into his mouth when Mickey climbed into his lap.

“You wanna make out on the couch? ‘Cause we have enough time for a quicky,” Ian asked between kisses.

“I know. Don’t wanna get up though,” he pressed his clothed erection into Ian’s stomach, “Fuck me right here.”

Ian lifted one incredulous eyebrow but didn’t argue. He wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity for them to fuck, and Mickey wanting to fuck outside a closed bedroom door, in a _living room_ of all places, was a sign of how comfortable Mickey now was with being open with Ian, and was another affirmation that this thing they had between them was the real deal. Instead he rucked Mickey’s shirt up to his armpits and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Mickey let out a surprised gasp and raked his blunt nails down Ian’s shoulder blades, while Ian’s hands roamed over his chest before coming to a stop to tackle Mickey’s belt.

Ian got his jeans unbuckled and unzipped, but Mickey sitting in his lap made it impossible to push his pants down.

“Babe, you gotta help me out here.”

Mickey stood up and pulled his shirt off. He let his jeans and underwear fall to the floor and stepped out of them, while Ian pulled his own shirt over his head and wiggled his shorts and boxers down to his ankles and kicked them away. Mickey wasted no time in getting back on top of him.

He cradled Ian’s face in his hands, and pulled Ian’s bottom lip down with his thumb, which Ian sucked into his mouth. He ran his tongue over the pad of Mickey's thumb, licked and sucked for a moment as they exchanged lust-fulled looks, before Ian pushed his hand away to bury his face into Mickey’s sweaty neck. He kissed and nipped at his boyfriend’s neck as he grabbed two handfuls of his ass and pulled him closer, and Mickey could manage to do nothing more than tilt his head back as moans escaped past his lips, and close his eyes while he threaded his fingers through Ian’s short hair. Ian suddenly pulled back.

“Shit, wait, the lube’s upstairs. Hold on,” He made a move to push Mickey off and get up, but Mickey pinned his shoulders back into the couch and all but growled at him.

“Just spit into your hand, man.”

“We haven’t done a spit ride in a long time, Mick.”

“Yeah, but that was how we used to do it all the time. I’ll be fine.” They had a brief standoff before Ian relented.

“Alright, have it your way,” Ian said, before he grabbed Mickey’s face and anchored his jaw in between his thumb and ring finger, and shoved the two fingers between them into his mouth.

_"Suck.”_

Mickey was immediately so turned on he couldn’t think straight, could only comply by enthusiastically laving up Ian’s fingers with his spit while looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. Ian pulled his fingers away after they were slick with Mickey’s saliva and spit onto his own fingers before reaching around Mickey to shove them up his ass.

Recently, Mickey had turned into quite the exhibitionist, and made sure that Ian watched him as he sat back and pushed himself onto Ian’s fingers, letting loud groans out into the otherwise quiet living room. Ian was definitely watching.

The evolution of their sex life now had them at a point where they could fuck freely. The Gallagher house was a sanctuary for them, where everyone knew they were together but didn’t care in the least. Encouraged it even, because they hadn’t seen Ian this happy in a long time.

Mickey was no longer afraid to make noise when they fucked. When they were home alone he didn’t hold back his moans or shouts while Ian fucked him so hard the bed slammed into the wall, loved both taking charge and letting Ian hold him down to take whatever he wanted. Mickey wasn’t afraid to look at Ian anymore, or to touch him, or to be looked at or touched by Ian. Discovers he actually loves the attention, loves to be praised in bed.

“You look so fuckin’ hot, babe,” Ian encouraged, and Mickey preened.

“Yeah, Mick? You like that?”

"Fuck off, you know I do.”

This carried on for a few minutes, until Mickey shoved his hand away and ducked his head down towards Ian’s lap, gathered a mouthful of saliva and spit it onto Ian’s dick. He did it a couple of times, until his dick was really covered in spit, before using his hand to jerk Ian off and make sure everything was wet.

“Fuck, that should not be as hot as it is.” Ian looked at him slack-jawed.

Mickey gave him a devilish grin, straightened up and climbed back into his lap, and braced himself with his hands on Ian’s shoulders before he leaned in to kiss him, open-mouthed and totally filthy, while Ian clutched him by the back of his neck. They both tried to gain the upper hand on the kiss, biting at each other and sticking their tongues in each others mouths. Mickey reached a hand behind himself and found Ian’s dick and lined it up against his hole without ever breaking their kiss, using his hand to guide as he slowly sank down to the hilt.

 _“Oh my god, Mick,”_ Ian groaned when he had bottomed out.

The increased friction from the lack of their usual lubrication made Mickey’s ass clench tightly around him. Mickey rode him a few times before pulling off completely, then spat into his hand and brought it behind him to spread it around his rim and tried again.

“You ok?”

“Nothin’ I’m not used to. It’s fine.”

Ian cupped Mickey’s face in his hands and looked at him, concerned. Mickey may have been used to it in the past, when their sex consisted of quick fucks in the freezer of the Kash ‘n Grab or the dugouts at the baseball field, but they’ve been fucking in bedrooms with lots of foreplay and lube for well over six months now. Mickey’s ass had become rather spoiled.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t, keep going,” Mickey said, closing his eyes to block out the discomfort as he rode him.

“It’ll only take a second to go grab the lube.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare stop, Gallagher,” He barked out, continuing to lift up and sink down onto Ian with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Baby, you’re hurtin’,” Ian said as he gripped Mickey’s hips hard to still him. “Come on, just let me go get the stuff from upstairs.”

Mickey finally relented and pulled off with a grunt and slumped onto the side of the couch so Ian could get up. He watched as Ian leaned over to grab his underwear before standing up and pulling his boxers over his hips and heading upstairs; he felt weird walking around his house naked, even though they were home alone. Ian returned moments later with their bottle of lube and a box of tissues, and set the tissues on the coffee table. He pulled his boxers back off and kicked them away before he sat back down on the couch and helped Mickey steady himself as he once again swung his leg over to straddle Ian’s lap and braced his arms on Ian’s shoulders.

Ian clicked open the bottle and upturned it over his fingers, squirting out a generous amount before recapping the lid and tossing it onto the table. He brought his fingers back to Mickey’s hole and carefully pressed two into him, while his other hand grabbed one ass cheek to pull it back and spread him open.

“Better?” Ian asked, and Mickey made a small noise of approval.

He was pretty open and wet with all of their combined spit, and Ian only had to finger him enough to make sure he was thoroughly lubed up. Their foreheads pressed together and Ian had his ears honed in on the quiet little gasps and moans Mickey was making, probably without even realizing. He quickly moved on to slick up his dick and jerked himself a few times to get fully hard again.

“You ready?” Ian asked.

Instead of answering, Mickey pulled back to look Ian in the eyes, and with his bottom lip wedged between his teeth, slowly lowered himself onto Ian’s dick for the second time. They both had to close their eyes and loll their heads back in pleasure at the feeling of Ian filling him up once again. Ian gripped both of his hips, which snapped him out of the haze he had temporarily fallen into, and Mickey resumed pulling up and lowering himself down onto Ian’s dick while rocking his hips into Ian’s lap as he gained momentum.

_“Fuck Ian, fuck, fuck!”_

Mickey let out a long string of expletives that were wrapped around Ian’s name as he bounced up and down faster. Now that Mickey was comfortable again he didn’t hold back; he yo-yo’ed back and forth between being loud as hell and unable to make words at all, instead letting out little _ah, ah, ah’s_ every time his ass smacked into Ian’s hips.

“You look so fucking good like this, Mick, _oh my god_.”

Ian’s hands were everywhere, moving from gripping his hips to squeezing his ass before finally sliding under Mickey’s thighs to lift him up, giving him more room to thrust up into him.

 _“Shit, shit!”_ Mickey let out, before he was reduced to unintelligible whining and then total silence, his mouth hanging open but making no noise at all.

Ian was suddenly there way quicker than he anticipated, right on the cusp of going over the edge while Mickey continued to ride him furiously, completely lost in his own pleasure.

“ _Fuck, fuck!_ Fuck, Mickey, slow down, _shit!_ ” He quickly reached down to grab himself by the base of his dick and squeezed to stave off his orgasm as Mickey came to a stop, his chest heaving.

“Gotta slow down there, cowboy.”

Mickey slapped him on the back of his head. They both looked at each other and couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly at how ridiculous the other looked so keyed up, and at how good it all felt, as they both tried to take in more oxygen.

Ian recovered first; he cradled Mickey’s face in one hand and slowly brought their lips together, kissed him softly and tenderly until Mickey was kissing him back. He sucked Mickey’s bottom lip into his mouth, felt how swollen it was from the way he had bit down on it earlier, while his other hand came to the small of Mickey’s back and pulled him in closer. They made out for a few minutes, with Mickey still fully seated but not moving. Then he began to slowly grind into Ian’s lap, which in turn had Ian moaning into his open mouth. He pulled back and resumed riding him, and the way Ian looked at him, his green eyes wide open and staring reverently at him with his mouth slightly parted, made Mickey feel a kind of happiness he previously thought wasn't possible to have; like even if such a thing could exist, he was sure he’d never be someone who actually got to experience it.

Mickey’s orgasm suddenly hit him like a freight train. Ian was hitting him in all the right places, and when he reached down to start jerking Mickey off it was over.

“Ian, _fuck!_ Shit, I’m gonna come, _holy shit._ ”

"Yeah?"

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, _oh my god yeahyeahyeah, Ian, there, there, right there, fuck!_ ”

He fucked into Ian’s fist fast and ground down hard onto his dick as it pressed right up against his sweet spot. A dozen expletives later he was he was coming all over Ian’s fist and stomach while pressing his face into Ian’s shoulder to muffle his groans.

When he was finally able to pick his head back up, he looked up at Ian, who had a huge smirk plastered onto his face that Mickey leaned in to kiss off of him. The kisses were slow, sweet, and Mickey wished he could feel this good, _this safe_ , with Ian all the time. When he pulled back they were both smiling, and Mickey pressed their foreheads together again and tried to catch his breath.

“Just gimme a minute and I’ll take care a’ you,” he panted.

Ian didn’t give him a minute, though. He instead pulled out and maneuvered them so they were now laying down on the couch. Mickey was on his back and had one leg hanging over the front of the couch with his foot flat on the floor. Ian got in between his legs and Mickey hooked the leg that was pushed into the cushions around Ian’s waist. After a bit of shuffling, Ian was lined back up.

“You good?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. Come on, tough guy.”

Ian wasted no time in pushing back in and going fast, now able to fully chase his own orgasm. Now that Mickey’s hands were free, he roamed them all over Ian’s chest, to rub over his nipples and feel out his ridiculously defined abs, as he pulled Ian down to bite and mouth at his neck and collar bones and the spot right under his ear.

_“Fuck, Mick.”_

“Yeah? You close?” Mickey teased.

“Fuck, yeah, oh my god. Love you so fuckin’ much, Mickey.”

Ian saying ‘I love you’ always took him by surprise, like he couldn’t believe someone would love him and that he could in turn love someone as much as he loves Ian. Because fuck, he loves Ian so fuckin’ much too. But before Mickey could respond, Ian stuck his tongue back into Mickey’s mouth and kissed him roughly as his orgasm finally washed over him. His hips stilled when it was over and then he had to pull back in order to breathe. Ian was always exhausted afterward when their fucking was this intense, and he couldn’t move beyond resting his head on Mickey’s chest.

“Ian, you’re heavy. Move.”

Ian sat up and stuck his tongue out at him, then pulled out and leaned forward to grab the tissues while Mickey stretched out along the length of the couch.

“No, hey, keep your hips up. Don’t leak on my couch.”

“Fuck you, wear a condom next time,” though he tucked his legs back up anyways.

“Fuck you, you love it.”

He couldn’t deny that.

Ian handed him a few tissues then turned around to grab a few for himself to clean up. When Mickey and Ian both finished they balled the tissues up and tossed them onto the floor before settling back down on the couch and cuddled up together. They laid there for a few minutes more, until Mickey figured they really needed to get up.

“Alright man, get up. People are gonna start comin’ home soon.”

“Hmm, just a few more minutes.”

“No, come on princess, time to get up.” Ian smacked him on the chest with the back of his hand for his snark, and they both stood up and got dressed.

Mickey had perfect timing.

Right as Ian was buttoning up his pants the front door swung open and Carl walked into the living room. They both froze. Ian hoped to god he wouldn’t see Mickey’s messed up hair or the lube and tissue box laying out in plain sight on the table, or smell that the room absolutely reeked of sex.

“Hey,” was all he said to them before trudging up the stairs without a second glance.

They hurried to finish up after that; both washed up in the downstairs bathroom, then Mickey threw away their trash and opened up the windows to air out the place while Ian went upstairs to put the tissues back and return the lube to the drawer in their night stand. They then headed into the kitchen to get a pot of water boiling for the spaghetti had decided they were going to make for dinner.

Ah, domesticity.

–—-

That night was the Gallagher’s bi-weekly movie night, as per summer tradition. Ian and Mickey were pressed together at one end of the couch, while V was sat in Kev’s lap on the other end; Their twins were sleeping upstairs in Liam’s old crib in Debbie’s room and a baby monitor was set out just in case they weren’t able to hear them over the movie. Carl sat in between all of them, hogging a gigantic bowl of popcorn. Fiona came in and dumped more snacks onto the table before she plopped down into the chair adjacent with a heavy sigh, exhausted from her double shift at the diner. Lip came down the stairs with Liam on his hip and the DVD in his hand; He handed the DVD to Debbie so she could put it into the player, and set Liam down on the floor at Carl’s feet before sitting down beside him.

 _“Jesus Christ!”_ he suddenly shouted when he looked down at the floor, and yanked his hand back as if he had been bit by something.

“What?!” Fiona jumped up from her chair to see what he was yelling at.

“If you’re gonna fuck in the living room, could you at least clean up all your fuckin’ jizz tissues?” He looked up at Mickey and Ian with such indignation it would have been hilarious had it not been so mortifying.

Everyone whipped their heads around to stare at them.

“Eww, gross!” Debbie whined from her spot on the floor. Kev burst into laughter and tried to fist bump with Mickey, who ignored him to reach down and grab the offending tissue. He sat back up and rubbed the bottom of his nose with his pointer finger, staring ahead at the TV screen to avoid looking anyone in the eyes, hoping to sink into the couch into oblivion. Ian’s whole face flushed red, the poor ginger bastard.

“You have no room to talk, Lip!” Ian threw back at him, “How many times did you fuck Karen on this couch? Or Mandy?”

“Eh, eh! Can we not talk about my sister fuckin’ here, please?”

V made a show of putting both her hands up and looking wildly around her. “Oh my god, should we even be sitting here right now? Is this some sort of biohazard?”

“That couch has seen a lot of action over the years,” Fiona piped in. “I’m pretty sure you could find the whole Gallagher gene pool.”

“I walked in on you and Kev fuckin’ here one time, V! You’re not innocent here either,” Lip interjected.

“Can we stop talking about fucking and just watch the damn movie?!” Debbie shouted, her hand hovering over the play button, and everyone was stunned into silence; Debbie never cursed, and her tone of voice meant that right now she was not one to be messed with. They all quickly settled down after that, except for Kev, who couldn’t stop laughing until his wife elbowed him in the ribs.


End file.
